Page 12 of Hating the Book Boyfriend

"Because it was funny. Are you telling me you wouldn't have laughed at me had the roles been reversed and I was hanging by my foot upside down over the lake?" She shrugs but doesn't answer. "Fine. How about when you showed up with bushels of daises and red patches from head to toe because you were allergic and didn't know it? Who sat beside you on the couch while your mom called the doctor?"

She pulls a pillow from my side and puts it in the middle. "Okay, so you're not a heartless ass." She grabs another. "You're just an ass."

I don't believe she really means that. I think she's been seeing me as something else for so long, and she's not ready to accept that more may have been there. I let it go because neither am I. I only wanted to make a point. I do care. It's the depth to which I care that we don't need to discuss.

"What are you doing?" I ask as I watch her stack pillows in the center of the bed.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm building a wall so we don't touch in the middle of the night. I don't need your abs coming anywhere near me while I sleep."

"You noticed my abs," I smirk.

She gives me a sidelong glance. "Kind of hard not to. For one, you sleep in your boxers as if you don't currently have a roommate, and if that weren't enough, they were firmly pressed against my back for three minutes and forty-five seconds less than an hour ago. I think it's safe to say I noticed." Fluffing her pillow, she adds. "Don't go getting a big head; noticing doesn't equate to enjoyment. To enjoy them, I'd have to like the man they were attached to, and we both know, at best, what we have shared up until now is toleration."

I purse my lips. Why do I love her sass as much as I hate it? Sass is not something I'm attracted to. I've always found bratty behavior indicative of someone who lacks the ability to articulate what they want to say. However, hers hits differently.

"If we're done with memory lane, I'll turn the light out. I'm really tired after sleeping on the floor last night, and I'm hoping the snow has cleared so I can get on the road first thing in the morning."

I stand up, start toward the bathroom for my bedtime routine, and ask, "The road? Are you headed back to Pine Falls? Do you still live in these parts?"

She blows out a long, exasperated breath as though my questions are seriously starting to grate on her nerves, and I can't help but smile a little.

"No, I don't live here anymore. I'm traveling home for the holidays to help on the farm. This is our busy season. You know that Callahan." She flicks off the light. "Goodnight."

The light from the bathroom shines on the bed, and I notice she stole all my pillows. "What about my pillow? You used them all, building your wall."

"Grab a towel from the bathroom and fold it up," she smarts back as if her response is an obvious answer.

"You have two! Give me one of yours."

"No, one is for my head, and the other is for between my legs, so I basically have one."

Fucking girl math. I don't argue. The last thing I need to discuss with her is what's between her legs.

CHAPTER 8

JoJo

"Mmm," I moan as a big hand glides under my shirt and palms my breast. Ipress back against my tempter, and when I do, I feel exactly what I need poking me in my ass. He rocks against me, and I press my thighs together, looking for friction, as his lips find my shoulder and leave a delicious trail of kisses up the side of my neck. I arch my back and push back harder this time, hoping the new angle will put him right where I want him. A hiss leaves his lips when his length nudges my entrance. He pinches my nipple hard as his teeth graze my jaw, and a whimper escapes my throat.

In one swift move, I'm on my back, his knees spreading me wide as he presses his boxer-clad length against my aching core. My sleep shorts are wet, but it's not the wetness that sets off alarm bells; it's not even the cool air that pebbles my skin in the wake of his open-mouth kisses. No, it's his soft lips on mine as his tongue seeks entrance. That's the moment my wet dream comes crashing down, and reality smacks me in the face as my eyes dart open and land on the one man who I'd never thought I'd find between my legs. Colton Callahan.

"Colton! Get off," I swat at his chest, but he doesn’t relent. Instead, he drops his head to the crook of my neck as though I simply no longer wanted his mouth. He pumps his length against my swollen clit once more, and I clench hard before slamming my eyes shut. "Damn it!" I'm not supposed to want this, and neither is he.

I push at him again in an attempt to roll him off me, and he coos, "Shh, baby. You know I'll make it good."

"You have got to be kidding me right now!" He's sleeping. No reality will ever exist where he'd ever call me baby. This is some sort of sexsomnia-type shit. I've read about it in a book or two. Knowing he's too fucking heavy and ripped to push him off, I do the next best thing. Reposition my leg up and knee him in the balls.

"Fuck," he rasps out as he rolls back onto his side of the bed, and I hop out. "Why did you do that?" he growls.

"Are you serious? You're really asking me that right now?"

He finally cracks his eyes open. "Yeah, I'm asking you that."

"Apparently, copping a feel during the polar plunge wasn't enough, so you decided you'd try to put it in."

We didn't discuss anything that happened during our brief time spent in the icy waters of the hotel courtyard after I returned to the room. However, his immediate departure after I won said enough. There was nothing to talk about.

"Put it in?" he repeats slowly before his eyes go wide. "Shit," he pinches the bridge of his nose. "Posey, you know I didn't mean that, right? I'm not attracted to you like that… I mean?—"

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